Jay's Deli
by ZombieandThePinkUnicorn
Summary: When Nick walks into a restaurant that is far too expensive for him, he doesn't expect to meet a nice, very attractive bartender that may or may not be flirting with him. A story in which Jay is the owner of his own restaurant, and tries to seduce Nick. Disclaimer: We are not F. Scott Fitzgerald. Sorry. Neither of us drink.
1. Chapter 1

Nick wasn't sure how he had ended up in such a high-scale restaurant for lunch. He had been walking along 72nd Street, starving, with only 20 minutes to get lunch and get back to work, and he was at least a ten minute walk from his usual bistro.

So, when he saw the sign hanging above his head advertising "Jay's Deli" and a very appetizing sandwich garnished with a thinly cut pickle next to it, he found himself walking inside and sitting down at the bar.

As he looked at the menu, he realized everything on the menu was way above his budget, but he didn't have time to find another place. So what if he had to skimp on breakfast for the next two weeks?

The bartender, whose name tag read Jay, was an attractive blonde man who sported several tattoos on his forearm, and after a few moments, he sidled up to where Nick was sitting.

"What can I do for you, old sport?" he asked, leaning down to rest his forearms on the counter in front of Nick, leaning in close to the brunette's personal space.

Nick sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure. I don't come to places like this very often, to tell you the truth. It's not really even in my price range, but what can I do?"

Jay nodded, and leant closer to point something out on the menu, "Try one of these. They're really good - after all, I make them - and it's our special today, so you get it half off."

Nick smiled at the blonde, and nodded. "Thanks, I'll have that."

Jay smiled as took the menu back from Nick, and turned to grab a glass from behind him. As he went to pour a bit of amber liquid into the glass, Nick suddenly grew anxious.

"N-no, please-"

Jay interrupted him immediately. "Don't worry. It's on the house," he winked, and then turned to walk away through a door next to the bar.

Nick sat there stunned for a few moments, before moving to pick up the glass, and take a sip.

Nick was not an idiot.

He could tell when someone was flirting with him, however rarely that happened.

He was also incredibly unlucky, most of the time.

The very few times anyone else had expressed romantic interest in him, it was usually the creepy fat UPS delivery guy or the long-haired pothead Hot Topic employee. (For the record, he was only in Hot Topic because Jordan had forcibly dragged him in.)

So it was a pleasant, if unexpected, surprise to find himself with a random hot blonde guy paying for his drinks and practically hanging off his arm.

"You live around here, old sport?" said the bartender.

"I live just outside of town," explained Nick. "I work for Atlantic Specialty Insurance Company, just down the street. It's my lunch break right now."

"Really?" said the blonde, leaning in obscenely close to Nick, so close that Nick could feel the man's breath ghost along the curl of his ear. Nick held back a shiver. "Young, virile businessmen are my favorite kind of customers." And he flashed Nick a smile that practically dripped with sex.

Nick was sure his bright red face could be used in place of a traffic light. He briefly considered running out into the road to test his hypothesis.

Unfortunately, his mouth had other ideas. "Well, my favorite bartenders are blonde and hot and have tattoos on their upper arms," he blurted out. He then decided that if there was a God, would They pretty please send a ray of the Lord's wrath to obliterate him from existence to save him from the utter humiliation of seeing a slight smile spread across his bartender's face?

"I reckon you have very good taste in bartenders, my friend," the bartender shot back, clearly holding back laughter.

Another waiter, a tall man with enormous hair and round glasses, slid a plate in front of Nick.

"Thanks, Klipspringer," said the blonde, slapping the waiter on the back.

Nick tentatively tried the sandwich. And then his mind exploded.

"Oh my god," he murmured through a mouthful of BLT. "How th' hell s'this so good?"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," said the waiter, refilling Nick's glass and sending him a slight wink that sort of made his stomach do cartwheels. (Or maybe that was just the amazingness of the sandwich.)

One sandwich and several glasses of scotch later, Nick had a near heart attack.

He happened to glance at the clock on the wall behind the bar and nearly fell off his chair when he realized that he was *nearly 15 minutes late to work.*

He cut off his bartender in the middle of a comical story about Klipspringer and claustrophobia and the walk-in freezer, and pulled out his wallet, searching for the correct amount of bills.

"Listen, I'm so sorry, but I'm incredibly late, so-"

Jay cut him off before he could say anything else.

"It's on the house, old sport," he winked, smirking as Nick paused, mouth agape.

"Go. You don't wanna be late," Klipspringer added, grabbing Nick's empty plate, which seemed to pull Nick out of his stupor.

"No, I can't let you not let me pay!"

Jay just shook his head, and waved a hand towards the door. If Nick hadn't been in such a hurry, he would have protested until Jay took his money, but he let it go this once, thanked the blonde profusely, and practically ran out the door, glancing behind him only once to see Jay staring at him intently from the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

Nick woke up the next morning determined, and on a mission. He didn't have work until later in the afternoon, so he had all morning to find that deli again and pay back what he owed.

He got dressed quickly - and if he put a little more effort into his clothes than usual, it most certainly was not because he wanted to seem more attractive to that hot bartender, most certainly not. He just had a meeting that he needed to look professional for, that was all.

With a look at himself in the mirror, he was out the door and on his way.

It wasn't that hard to find the restaurant again - it seemed as if the taxi driver was extremely familiar with the place.

As he got out of the cab, he gave himself a once over to make sure his hair wasn't stuck out in weird angles, or his shirt wasn't untucked in the back, before walking in.

Jay was in the same place he had been the afternoon before, only instead of a white button-down, he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that may or may not have made Nick think about what Jay would look like naked.

As Nick walked over to the bar, Jay glanced up, grinning when he noticed the brunette.

"Couldn't stay away, old sport?" he asked, winking at the younger man.

"I came here to pay you what I owe you," Nick said firmly, trying to keep his resolve strong.

Jay just shook his head. "That's really not necessary, old sport."

"Oh, really? So the owner just lets you give free meals to just anyone? I don't want to cause trouble!" Nick insisted.

The blonde bartender paused then, looking at him with a bemused expression.

"I'm sorry, old sport. I thought you'd know, but, I am the owner."

Nick paused, the realization sinking in, and he wanted to melt into the floor. Of course Jay was the owner. Jay's Deli. How could he have been so stupid?

Nick tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a strangled moan. "Right. I don't know why I didn't make the connection sooner. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I can't believe how big of a fool I just made of myself. I'm so sorry. I'll just leave," Nick blurted out, trying to stop the words from coming, but they wouldn't stop. He tried to turn around and leave this whole embarrassment behind, but before he could leave with "dignity," Jay called him back.

"Hey, old sport! Stop! Sit down. I'll make you some breakfast."

Very slowly, Nick sat down at the bar in the same spot as before. He vaguely wondered what he was getting himself into.

Jay - the owner - slid a plate of French toast in front of him.

"Please let me pay for this one," pleaded Nick.

"Oh, sure," said Jay, leaning over the counter. Nick blinked, taken aback. "As long as I pay for a movie and dinner tonight," he added.

Nick blushed and tried not to swoon too obviously.

"You sure you, uh - don't need to - y'know, work tonight or anything?" he said nervously, not daring to believe that this stunningly handsome man actually wanted to spend time with him.

Jay just shrugged and gestured vaguely towards the rest of the restaurant. "Nah," he said. "They'll be fine without me."

Nick shoved some French toast into his mouth in order to stop himself from saying anything tactless and/or perverted.

Unintentionally, he let out a slight moan as he ate. Jay's grin grew positively lecherous. Nick was certain he heard a distinct snort come from Klipspringer, who was standing on the opposite side of the bar, wiping down some glasses.

"There's more where that came from," said Jay in a slight whisper. Nick suppressed a full-body shiver.

He suddenly felt a small slip of paper underneath his fingers. He looked down in surprise.

"That's my number," said Jay. "I'll be at your place at 5:30 tonight. Casual dress, no biggie."

It was only several hours after breakfast was finished that Nick finally wondered how Jay knew where he lived.

Come to think of it, thought Nick. I don't think he even knows my name.


End file.
